I, Zhaya: Stranger to Barovia
by the dank fairy
Summary: A strange girl is deposited by the Mists in northern Barovia, who has a strong connection to the land. What will Strahd do with her, and why hasn't he simply eaten her?


The following is a story written by me in 1999, shortly after first reading a collection of Ravenloft novels I, Strahd, I, Strahd War Against Azalin, King of the Dead and Lord of the Necropolis. The story is set in modern day Barovia. And the lead character Zhaya is an intruder from a modern world, much like our own. Never a fan of a sad ending, Strahd's tragic figure seemed in need of a happy ending. Vampire or no, it seemed to me he has so much love to give and no one adequate to give it to.  
  
Story contains romance, but no sex, kissing or any kind of smut. Deals with love alone. Suitable therefore for all ages. This is the love Story that Strahd Von Zarovich deserves.  
  
Comments, suggestions, complaints to Mel Fellows, the dank fairy  
  
mel@zadank.com http://fairy.zadank.com  
  
  
  
I, Zhaya, stranger to Barovia, guest to Ravenloft and prisoner to the ever present Mists, hereby impart my tale. It was never my choice to come here, however the very fact of my presence here coupled with my apparent inability to leave has inspired me to begin this journal. I write, not to make a lasting preservation of the events of my sojourn, but in an effort to practice this foreign Barovian tongue that I have been forced to adopt. There is no doubt in my mind that my account will be viewed by those whom I would prefer not to do so. To attempt secrecy I also believe would be an exercise in futility. There are no secrets in this place. Not for me. Not from him.  
  
Closing my eyes I envisioned my surroundings to perfection. The soft caress of the spring breeze cooling my hot skin, lifting my hair to float in waves about my face. The brilliant sun setting its fiery gaze upon the rich green grass, yet not wilting a single blade. Tall buildings stretching their shiny fingers upwards in an effort to cast their challenge to the very sky. The challenge that someday humankind would surpass even the gods. A challenge lost in the trill mockery that playful birds sang from the trees.  
  
Holding my breath, I opened my eyes to see it vanish before the reality I had encountered bare minutes beforehand. Shivering beneath the icy force of the wind as it tore through my scant clothing, I squinted into the gray bleakness of the landscape. Dark mountains reared upwards, to loom menacingly over me as I crouched into the rough grasses. Large boulders littered the ground towards the base of the nearest peak, this appearing to be the only protection from the elements this land saw fit to offer me. Bracing myself against the cold, I set off towards them.  
  
As I walked through the writhing long grasses, I considered the events that had brought me to this place. The sunny place I'd imagined had been real, a landscaped park not far from my home in the city. As I stepped into a clearing of old trees I recalled a brief chill had settled on me, making me shiver. Moments later my vision had swirled like mist and I lost all sense of feeling and direction as my sight blurred to gray. A wrenching feeling tore at my body and I awoke, alone and cold in the bleak land I now traversed. There was nothing I could do. I had thought myself to be dreaming but the harsh reality that surrounded me held no likeness to any dream I'd imagined before. I was lost.  
  
The nearest boulders now stood before me and I snuggled into a sheltered hollow at the base of one. Safe for the moment from the cold air, I at last gave in to the desperation of my situation and wept for my fear and for the loved ones who would be worried for me. I wept for myself. And as the darkness of the night crept over my shelter, I slept.  
  
* * *  
  
The shuffling sound grew louder, closer and resolved itself into irregular footstep. My heart beating hard in the confines of my chest, I crouched as close as I could to the cold rock. Not knowing whether this person were friend or foe, indeed whether it were a person at all, I chose to follow the philosophy that nothing roaming this landscape in the dead of night could be entirely trusted. Abruptly the sound stopped. Straining my ears, I heard nothing but the exaggerated thumping of my own heart. To the left of my shelter, the sharp crack of a pebble broke the silence briefly. Willing myself to remain undiscovered, I cringed in fear. A strange relaxed sensation swept over me and I ceased shaking. Looking about me in the deepest night I thought I caught a quick glimpse of a pale visage, suspended in the shadows. And then it was gone. Silence claimed the night once again. Shaking with relieved fright, I lay wakeful for the remainder of the night until the sun illuminated the horizon hours later.  
  
With the pale sun rising laboriously into the sky, I emerged from my shelter and headed south, along the base of the mountain range. Hunger knotted my belly alongside lingering fright from my nightly visitors. I realised I'd need to look for food, and scanned the landscape as I walked, proving my suspicions that such a discovery would indeed be an amazing thing.  
  
I'd walked for perhaps a few hours, the sun riding high in the sky when I discovered a thin trail. A game trail perhaps, but it followed my intended path so I chose to walk it. As I walked the path did appear to widen slightly, however I was not prepared to dismiss the idea that my hunger and weariness was filling me with false hope. My feet continued a measured pace along the trail, and my thoughts wandered aimlessly.  
  
It was some time before I actually noticed the sensation of life surrounding me. The bare landscape certainly appeared lifeless, yet underneath, perhaps even in my subconscious mind, I felt a strong life force humming within the very earth. Startled by this discovery, the land I came from was friendlier but far from alive, I stretched my awareness as far as I could beyond myself, concentrating on the sensation I was feeling. It responded to my effort, a gentle feeling of warmth suffusing my being and relaxing my fears and concerns from my tired body, before it withdrew. Feeling revived somewhat, I trudged my path with renewed purpose, noticing for the first time as I crested a small rise, that I could make out smoke on the horizon.  
  
Startled by this discovery, I mentally gauged the distance I was from this phenomenon, estimating a bare hours walk as I'd already traveled. The sudden appearance of a small village as I topped the next rise proved my estimate slightly inaccurate. Smoke billowed from several chimneys, indicating that someone at least was not suffering the cold as I was. Ignoring the obvious temptation, I took a moment to sit and consider my predicament. Gazing down at the village I recalled to myself that I had no money and most likely did not understand their language. I was a stranger to this land and it would show. However, I had no food and was unlikely to get anything any other way, so I rose and began the walk down to the village.  
  
To say that the villagers stared would perhaps be an understatement. They appeared a suspicious lot, hardly surprising considering the harsh land they called home. I walked slowly to avoid seeming a threat. One girl alone should hardly seem a threat and apparently a few of them figured this out. They approached me boldly to speak something that, as predicted, made absolutely no sense at all to me. I said as much to them in my own tongue, simply to demonstrate that we didn't speak the same language. They conferred amongst themselves briefly, finally one man stepped forward and pointed at me, a note of questioning in the short phrase he issued. Taking my cue, I also pointed at myself and said "Zhaya".  
  
The man nodded and pointed at himself saying the word "Balrik". I nodded in turn and indicated that I was in need of food by pointing at my open mouth and rubbing my belly. He apparently took the hint and with a quick glance at his companions, Balrik waved his arm for me to follow him into a nearby building.  
  
A small group of villagers had gathered to witness the exchange, and they tagged along at a safe distance as I stepped into the building indicated. It appeared to be a tavern of some description. A far cry from the luxury of my homeland. It had a low ceiling supported by rough beams. The floor, compacted earth covered with straw. A fireplace blazed along the far wall, heating the interior and offering me my first taste of warmth since the day before. I shivered the chill from my body and soaked up as much of it as I could. Balrik brought me a small chunk of dry bread which I bit into eagerly, taking a seat near the fireplace.  
  
Balrik in turn took a seat near me and we began the agonizingly slow process of trying to communicate. He seemed mostly interested in whether I were dangerous or not and was eventually satisfied that I was mostly harmless. In turn I gleaned that I was in a village called Jarkin, and more startling, was in the land called Barovia. That name brought a chill to me despite the heavy warmth of the fire. Barovia. Yes I had heard of it. A land of darkness. A land born from fiction. In my land Barovia was but a story. A fable for entertainment and fancy. To confirm my suspicions, I responded by mentioning His name. The reaction was mixed, but strong. I was right. I was in a land that was supposed to be a story, but apparently wasn't.  
  
Talking had taken up what remained of the afternoon and dusk was fast approaching. Knowing the tales of Barovia, I was not surprised that the villagers were eager to be in their homes by the time the sun went down. Unfortunately for me, their generosity apparently had a limit, but they were kind enough to allow me to sleep in the stable hayloft. I buried myself in the hay for warmth and lay there alone, watching the sunlight gradually fade.  
  
Still awake as the darkness settled over Barovia, I listened for the usual sounds of night, and heard none. I had not noticed this the previous night when I first came to this land. Yet now, as I strained my ears for sound, there was nothing, as though every creature was afraid to break the silence. My ears and eyes failing me, I gently relaxed my mind and was again confronted by the equally wakeful presence of the land. Stretching my thoughts out beyond myself into the darkness I felt a stirring in the landscape. It were as though a small piece of the land had broken off and started moving. Moving towards me. Sensing that I was about to be introduced to the darker side of Barovia, I chose to meet it bravely and not hide as I had the night before.  
  
Creeping down from the loft, I shivered into the open air outside, walking into the darkest shadows beside the stable and waiting there. I did not wait long. He disengaged himself from the shadows like he was one of them. His face pale, a slightly curious glint to his dark eyes. When he spoke I could understand him perfectly. This was not so much a wonder as a relief. I would hate to converse with one such as he in the labored manner I'd spent my afternoon.  
  
"What brings you to my land?" His voice was deep and accented strangely, almost regally, penetrating the night and sending a chill through my body.  
  
"The Mists," I replied, now given to understand my arrival slightly better, knowing I was in Barovia.  
  
"You know of the Mists then?" He raised one eyebrow slightly in surprise.  
  
"Only that they brought me here. I know not why or how." I sighed my helpless frustration. His lips thinned into what could almost be a small smile.  
  
"I am interested to know more of you and what you know." He made it sound more like an order than a request. "What is your name?"  
  
"Zhaya, " I replied, thinking it best to be straightforward with him. He did not look the type to be much impressed with playing games. He regarded me with his dark eyes, searching as though sifting through my innermost thoughts to every secret I kept hidden there. It would not do to show him fear. He would respect someone who could face him with courage. "And how may I address you?"  
  
"I have the impression you already know me." he said and I felt a small tug at my memory. Yes, only one in Barovia would seem to walk as an extension of the land itself. I am Strahd, I am the land.  
  
"Yes, I know." I nodded to him. As he observed me, I noticed a slightly puzzled expression cross his smooth features. He gazed at me a moment longer with his puzzled look.  
  
"Indeed you seem to know much about my land. It responds to you in a most peculiar way. I would like to understand this better."  
  
"If you will accept me as your guest then I shall gladly impart to you anything you wish to know." He looked at me carefully. He could see I had nothing left to lose, and apparently my fumbling in reaching out to the land with my awareness had captured his interest. I was in truth terrified to my very soul. There were none such as he where I was from. I had no idea what to expect from him. It was presumptuous of me to ask, and yet he was the only one I'd encountered who could talk to me. If he decided instead just to take everything he wanted from me then I would be in no position to resist. But the opportunity had to be taken. Strangely enough, for reasons I still do not understand, he found a reason to accept this idea.  
  
"Then we will continue our conversation when you get to Castle Ravenloft." His eyes glinted the challenge, Find your own way there they said. And he turned and disappeared into the shadows once more, leaving me to stand there, shivering and bewildered in the cold. I let out a long breath and realised for the first time that I'd been holding it while he decided my fate. Shaken thoroughly by my first brush with forces so dangerously beyond my scope, I sat down on the ground hard. Willing my shaking limbs to be still, I regained some composure, enough to notice I had my left hand buried in a shadow darker than the rest. For a shadow it was remarkably soft and substantial. Thick material of some description I guessed. Lifting it in my hands it suddenly occurred to me. His cloak. Puzzled as to how I'd managed to incur such favour, I gratefully wrapped it around my shivering body and, whispering my thanks to the night, went back to the loft.  
  
* * *  
  
Sunlight intruded on my senses and I awoke blinking to a new, if no less cold, day. One thing I'd been unhappy to learn the day before was that this was what the Barovians considered to be summer. Winter was much worse they had informed me. Perhaps I'd be fortunate enough to find some adequate clothing before the snow started falling, I thought to myself. For now however, I was firmly wrapped in Strahd's cloak which provided more than enough warmth. There would inevitably be questions from the villagers regarding it, which I was determined to avoid by leaving early. My goal was to discover the whereabouts of Castle Ravenloft. I was expected there and I did not intend to waste time. Descending from the loft, I rushed into the tavern to find Balrik.  
  
Balrik was in the kitchen eating when I found him. He said something to me which still made no sense at all. I smiled my incomprehension and he sighed. I waved for him to listen to me and said "Ravenloft, " which I hoped he would understand. His face went slightly pale, but he only gave me a questioning look. I tried several combinations of my name and Ravenloft coupled with motions I hoped would indicate traveling. He got the point, but did not appear pleased. He pointed East towards the mountains. I smiled and nodded and prepared to rush out the door, but he waved for me to wait. Turning towards a bench along the wall, he cut a portion from a loaf of bread there and wrapped it in a cloth. Handing it to me, he motioned for me to follow him outside. I followed him out the front door of the tavern to the road outside. Here he pointed at a wagon trail that wove eastwards through the village. I smiled and thanked him, knowing he would not understand my words but hoping he'd understand the intent behind them. Then turning I began to walk east towards the mountains.  
  
I realised after an hour or so that I hadn't asked for any indication of how long it would take to get to the castle. If the stories were accurate, I knew that it would be high in a mountain and surrounded by a poisonous fog of some description. I was not yet ready to succumb to despair though, that could wait for later.  
  
As I walked I once more indulged in sensing the land around me. The more I did so the stronger the sense of presence it began to have. This land was not still like my own had been. It almost felt alive. Alive and aware of me. I was certain it had been aware the moment I entered it, thus bringing me to its lord's attention. This was a land of magic and the more I thought about it, the greater my curiosity to learn more about this Art. I did not quite dare to hope my visit to Ravenloft would allow me such an opportunity.  
  
I began to grow very tired. It was not necessary for me, in my own land, to engage in much traveling on foot and here I was on my second trek in two days. I sat down on a nearby rock and surveyed the road ahead of me. Mountainous was the best word I could think of to describe it. I sighed, this was going to take a while. By the time I actually arrived at Ravenloft I would be too tired to talk. It was then, by some quirk of fate, that I noticed a wagon wending its way up the slope I'd just climbed. Watching as it approached I noted it was a farmer or merchant of some kind with a load of what looked like cabbages, most likely for market. When the wagon pulled towards the place where I waited, I stepped out and waved to the driver. The fact that we could not understand each other soon became obvious to him, although I had already expected it. However I managed to indicate I was travelling in the direction he was going and that I'd appreciate a ride. He seemed amiable enough and invited me to sit on the front of the wagon beside him.  
  
Thus began my first instruction in the Barovian tongue. The long trip provided the opportunity for what I'd already decided was a necessity. The driver was appreciative of an opportunity to relieve the boredom and proved a good teacher. The language was unlike any other I'd ever heard of before. It was somehow musical and expressive without the need for many words. And it came so easily to my lips. By the time we stopped in the late afternoon at the next village, the driver would not travel at night, I had an arsenal of basic Barovian phrases at my command.  
  
The driver booked himself into the village inn and left me to my own devices. I finished off the bread I'd received that morning and spent a while wandering the cool clear Barovian night. The locals were all afraid to go out at night. But the land spoke its soothing tones to me and I knew that no danger would present itself to me this night. I hoped briefly that He would return. But he did not. Nor would he for the remainder of my journey, I imagined. Although I was certain he had made note of my progress. I doubted that much passed in this land without his notice. Remembering my terror of him, I realised I was glad he did not return. I wrapped his cloak close about me and gazed momentarily up at the unfamiliar stars. This land continued to be strange to me. Yet the sense of its presence almost made me feel at home. Almost. I turned and made my way to the stable to find a bed for the night.  
  
* * *  
  
Two more days travelling in like fashion found me in the town of Barovia. Here the driver let me off and we said our farewells. I had watched the castle slide into view for most of the morning. Resting majestically on the side of the mountain, the surrounding fog gave it an ethereal quality, almost like it was floating on a cloud. I watched it now with just as much wonderment. The townsfolk never once looked at it. This apparently was a theme among them as most refused to speak to me when I mentioned I was going there and needed to get through the fog guarding it. Many simply walked away from me, some called me crazy and no few spat at me. Noting that this approach was getting me nowhere, I simply set off towards it, deciding to solve the fog problem when I got there. It was already early afternoon when I left the town. I had a long way to go yet, but having rested the past few days in the wagon, I was confident I'd make it only mildly short on breath.  
  
It was not an easy climb. I walked the worst part of it on sheer determination alone rather than any kind of muscular reliability. At certain points the sides of the road dropped away, leaving bare cliffs thousands of feet high, a river far below. The roar of the falls was deafening at one point where the road passed right beside them. As darkness fell and the road became unclear I began to notice movement in the shadows. Catching a glimpse of a hunched figure I realised I was being followed by wolves. Rather than eating me, which would be unpleasant after all the effort I went to to get this far, they were providing me with an escort of sorts. Hopefully they'd stop me if I was about to walk off the edge, but I wasn't about to count on it.  
  
I came to a fork in the road, with three trails leading from it. On the right-hand trail stood a lone wolf watching me. When he saw me look at him, he loped off into the shadows. I took the path to the right. Two more turns and there it was. A large wall of fog.  
  
It was fully dark now. I knew he'd be watching me, and I knew he probably wasn't going to help me. This was up to me. If I could find a way in I'd be free to stay. If not, I could sit out here and rot until I died. Or until wolves ate me. I sat down to consider my problem. Staring at the fog didn't help. I realised this almost immediately. There appeared no way around it either. Over perhaps would be possible if I were capable of flying. Which I was not.  
  
It was probably out of boredom, for I had been sitting there thinking about it for an hour or so, that I sent my awareness out to the land. That's when I noticed the source of the fog was the land itself. I am not sure exactly how, but I simply asked it to let me though. And in response to my request, the fog wall parted. There stood Castle Ravenloft. Sucking in my breath and my fear, I walked through the open gate. It thundered shut behind me.  
  
* * *  
  
I exhaled slowly, collecting my thoughts and wondering all of a sudden what I was doing in this place. So focused was I on getting here, I had not given any thought to what I would do when I arrived. I gazed about me with a mixture of awe and terror and it occurred to me for the first time I was in over my head. Darkness shrouded the castle, highlighting the stark towers as they loomed high above. Debris choked the shadowed corners of the courtyard I stood in. The stone walls bore scars from some untold cataclysm. The entire structure reeked of death. Yet this place was far from still. Rotting corpses stalked the battlements, their moans occasionally punctuating the soft wail of the wind along the mountainside. Their footsteps echoed sharply across the courtyard floor as they mindlessly went about their duties. Watching their movements, I noticed several disappear into a gaping opening in the Keep. Approaching cautiously, but swiftly, I crossed the courtyard to look more closely at what turned out to be a large door. There were no undead nearby so I tentatively entered.  
  
It was dark. I couldn't see anything. Waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dim light I listened carefully for any sounds of movement. Only the sounds of the undead guards on their endless patrols outside. I took a few stumbling steps forward and jumped when suddenly a torch flared to life on the wall in front of me. A second followed suit and a third, until a long row of torchlight illuminated a dusty staircase leading upwards, deep into the castle.  
  
I walked slowly up the stairs, as quietly as I could. The flickering light cast long eerie shadows over the large portraits hanging on the walls. The smiling faces staring down at me seemed all the more grotesque for the parody of joy they forced into this dark setting. I wondered if they were perhaps there to deter would be visitors rather than to remind the keeper of happier times.  
  
If the castle seemed high from the ground, then it certainly gained immensity when climbing it. The staircase seemed to go on forever, twisting and turning. I began to lose my sense of direction. Then abruptly the torchlight ended. The last light, a flickering candle marking a regular wooden door. Light shone from underneath the door, which emanated a kind of warmth into the dim, cold corridor. I reached for the handle and the door swung open before me, revealing a large well-lit room.  
  
It was a library, I could see, from the multitude of books lining shelf after shelf on the walls, from ceiling to the richly carpeted floor. Comfortable couches and chairs stood at intervals around the room. A fireplace stood along the far wall, filling the room with the dry heat of its blaze. An enormous portrait hung over the carved mantelpiece, depicting a lovely young woman. I glanced at it, hardly allowing my eyes to sit still on one thing for too long, trying to take it all in. I walked slowly to the centre of the room where a large ornate table, its smooth surface reflecting my dirty face in the candlelight.  
  
I suddenly felt very self-conscious about my appearance. I had not had the opportunity to bathe since my arrival several days ago. Still clad only in the garments I'd worn when I entered this land and Strahd's cloak, all of which were covered in a layer of dust from the roads. I began to regret that I'd not done anything to make myself more presentable. Too late for that now.  
  
The door swung gently closed behind me and I turned, heart racing so fast it almost seemed as though it would burst through my chest. He stood watching me by the door and I returned his gaze silently, taking the opportunity to have my first clear look at his features. His skin was pale, contrasting sharply with the darkness of his eyes and hair. High, prominent cheekbones curved regally down to his firm jaw line, his face a noble one that matched his bearing. His clothes were black and unadorned, yet finely cut and neatly presented. This reminded me once again of my own disheveled appearance.  
  
"I have been expecting you," he said, striding purposefully towards a chair set between the table and the fire. Taking a seat, he resumed his examination of me, somewhat more casually. "Be seated." I disengaged my foot from where it had taken root in the carpet and sat across from him on a couch near the fireplace.  
  
"Are you hungry?" he asked, indicating a platter on the table I'd failed to notice on my arrival.  
  
Chuckling nervously at the reminder I looked at him with minor alarm showing on my face. "Are you?"  
  
"You have nothing to fear from me. I merely wish to talk." He looked amused. Cringing inwardly at the sudden loud grumbling that issued forth from my stomach, I accepted the offered platter and ate. He said nothing, just sat silently observing me as I availed myself of the most delicious food I'd eaten in days. I decided that things weren't going too badly so far.  
  
"Where are you from?" he asked when I'd finished.  
  
"A place called Aeyr." I noted his lack of response and took it to mean he had not heard of it before. I had not expected him to. "It's a lot warmer than here, and the civilization is so much more advanced." One of his brows rose slightly. "Not that here isn't a very nice place, except for the cold, its just that our civilization has been established for millions of years." I proceeded to tell him as much as I could about my homeland, getting caught up in the joy of remembering all the familiar sights made them seem less far away. He allowed me to ramble, occasionally asking me to clarify different things that I mentioned, following my words with what appeared to be real interest. Finally my stream of words slowed as I remembered once more how far I was from home. "Then one afternoon as I walked through the park near my home, my eyes filled with mist and when it cleared I was in Barovia, north of the village Jarkin, although I wasn't aware of that at the time." He nodded, digesting my words.  
  
"You've never encountered the Mists before?" I shook my head. "How then did you know of them?"  
  
"In my land, this place is a story. A fiction book for entertainment. I don't remember all the details, it's been such a long time since I read it. But you feature prominently in the story."  
  
After a long moment where he considered the implications of this he asked, "How much do you know?" I realised now I was in danger. I knew too much. I could lie and pretend I knew very little at all. However I doubted he'd believe that now. There was nothing I could do. I began to recount everything I knew about him. His coming to Barovia, his pact with Death and subsequent transformation. His secrets, his weaknesses. Tatyana. His long battle with Azalin. He sat silently listening to all of it, every trace of amusement gone from his face. When I finished he still remained motionless, lost in thought.  
  
Waiting for him to resume the conversation I realised how tired I was. I'd had no sleep since before I arrived in the town of Barovia, and I'd just walked in the dark, alone and afraid to Castle Ravenloft itself on the top of a mountain. As the silent minutes ticked by my head grew heavier and my mind wandered to thoughts of my homeland Aeyr. I succumbed to the weariness in my limbs.  
  
* * *  
  
I ran. Breathing hard, I raced through the dark corridors, heart pounding, legs aching. I couldn't stop, I had to keep running. Behind me I could hear it. Hunting me. Closer and closer. I ran faster hoping to escape. Secretly knowing there was no escape. Not ready to give up I kept up my flying pace. It was not enough. As I looked back, I saw it. Much closer. I could see the red of its eyes. The hunger of its gaping mouth, fangs dripping in anticipation. The sight spurred me on. I kept running. Terrified. Two more turns and I felt the claws seize my shoulders, hauling me back. My momentum carried my legs forward and I fell on my back. Struggling in its iron grip I screamed my protest. To no avail. Viciously strong hands twisted my head, exposing my throat. Pain seared through my body as fangs tore at my neck. The slurping sound, loud in my ear, lulled me to my final rest.  
  
* * *  
  
I sat up with a start. Blinking against the bright candlelight, I looked around me. I was in the library still, on the couch where I'd apparently fallen asleep. Strahd did not appear to have moved at all, although his dark eyes were fixed on me. There was a soft expression on his face which vanished abruptly when he realised I was looking at him. I wondered how long I'd slept.  
  
"It is almost dawn. I must go to my rest," he said, as if in answer to my unspoken question. Without waiting for a response he rose and strode from the room closing the door behind him.  
  
Still shaking from the intensity of my dream, I hugged my legs to my chest, wrapping the cloak I still wore tight about me. Dawn, I thought. I've slept for hours. I sat there, recovering, for perhaps another ten minutes before I started to give some consideration to what I'd do next. My sleep had hardly shaken the tiredness from limbs, but I was not yet prepared to resume sleeping.  
  
Standing and stretching myself I began to take more note of my surroundings. Freed from the oppression of Strahd's presence, my natural curiosity asserted itself and I wandered around the room, looking more closely at things. He would not return until evening. I had the day to look around.  
  
Briefly scanning the shelves, I selected a book at random. Flipping through the pages, I could make sense of none of it. I returned it to its place on the shelf. The room was bereft of windows, the only exits being the one I'd entered from and another smaller door along one wall. I walked over to it and turned the handle, envisioning an undead servant standing on the other side, I was relieved to find only a dark room. I grabbed a candle from the nearest sconce and went in. It was a large room, when my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, I could make out a large canopied bed positioned on the far wall. There were also large thick drapes covering another wall, open in the middle to reveal a window. I walked over to it and saw that the sun indeed shone against the silhouette of the mountaintop. There was a balcony outside the window. Climbing out the window, still clutching my candle, I was able to get a view of the castle that the night had not allowed.  
  
It was breathtaking. The crisp, clear mountain air in the early dawn light lent a singularly perfect atmosphere to the beauty of the land. Far below I could make out the town of Barovia, and the thick forests surrounding the mountain. It was a beautiful sight. Taking it all in, along with the cool fresh air, I spared a thought for the fact that Strahd himself never saw it like this. Not for hundreds of years. I was one of the few people who had stood here to greet the dawn in centuries. It was enough to relax the lingering terror that had held me in check all night. I reached out with my mind to touch the glorious world before me. I could feel the life flowing through it, drowsy and lethargic. I fed it my joy and felt it warm to my mental touch. For one short moment I stopped being afraid. And I stopped missing my home.  
  
I stood there for a long time. Breathing the life that filled the air in this dead place. I stood there until I almost fell over from tiredness. With one last glance at the rising sun, I turned back into the darkness.  
  
Yawning, I glanced uncertainly at the dusty bed. It looked like it had not been used in a very long time, which was not surprising in this place. I walked over to it and tentatively poked at it. Assured that nothing dead, or undead was in it, I pulled back the covers, shaking as much dust away as I could. I removed my cloak and climbed in. I blew out my candle and lay back on the pillow. The last thing I saw before sleep claimed me was a large sword hanging above the bed.  
  
* * *  
  
I sensed rather than saw him in the darkness, standing at the end of the bed watching me. He made no sound, moving closer. Lifting one had as though to reach out to me, he apparently changed his mind and strode from the room. When he was gone candles flared to life along the walls and I screamed.  
  
The undead servant did not pause in its duties. It just kept pouring the water from the bucket it held to the large tub that had somehow been placed in the room. Recovering from the fright, I heard a low chuckle emanating from the next room. So he thought it was funny. Delightful.  
  
Hiding under the covers until it had gone, I scrambled out of the bed and bent to examine the tub. It was a tub, good no surprises there. Full of steaming soapy water. A bath then. I cringed again for the state of my grubbiness and taking off my clothes, sank gratefully into the comfortable heat of the water. I soaked there for some time, looking out the window and noticing that I had indeed slept through the day and it was once again night.  
  
Giving some thought to getting out of the tub, I saw that a folded pile had been placed at the end of the bed. I got out, dripping and shivering, to have a look. Topmost was a towel, which I quickly slipped around my shaking wet body. The rest turned out to be a dress, which surprisingly, fit me well. I had seen village women dressed much like this, although mine appeared to be of a much finer material. Looking around, I found a comb in the dust atop a small table. Combing my hair and tying it up, I went through the door to the library.  
  
Strahd wasn't there.  
  
Looking about, I found another platter, like the one I'd had the previous night. I sat down alone and ate. Finished my meal and wandered the room idly, looking for something to do. I randomly pulled a book from the shelf and flicked through it none of it making sense. Blinking I paused, scanning the page before me. I had thought I'd seen a word I recognized. Yes, there was another one. I was not sure what language it was. It didn't seem like my native tongue or Barovian. And yet I could understand pieces of it. I turned to the start of the book and began trying to decipher the text.  
  
I didn't know how long he had been standing there, so absorbed was I in my discovery. When I looked up I almost thought I saw a small smile on his face, which was quickly removed. He sat down on the couch I'd occupied the night before, since I'd inadvertently sat in his seat.  
  
"I have thought about what you told me last night," he began. "Your knowledge of me is unfortunately accurate. I have no wish for this information to become public." He paused and I held my breath. "I must insist that you remain here in Castle Ravenloft and speak to no one until I can determine what to do with you."  
  
I considered that a moment. It did not seem such a bad thing. Aside from the obvious disadvantages of undead walking around, it were not as though I had anywhere else to go. Indeed, were there anyone I could talk to, I doubted I'd be able to pass much information to them with my limited understanding of the Barovian language. I nodded to him, "What would you have me do while I am here?"  
  
"That is up to you. I am willing to assist you if I can with whatever tasks you choose to occupy your time."  
  
I thoughtfully stroked the cover of the book I still held, "I should like to know more about this." I indicated the book.  
  
He glanced at it thoughtfully stroking his chin with one long finger. "Can you read it?"  
  
I frowned slightly, "Almost. Some words make no sense at all, yet others seem to leap out of the page to me."  
  
He nodded. "Very well. Come with me and I will guide you around the Castle, I think it best if you have a passing familiarity with its geography." I smiled. I did not think things could be going better for me at this time. To my surprise he smiled slightly in return before walking off into the bedroom. Returning with a small lantern, he lit it from a candle and handed it to me.  
  
"Follow me," he said brusquely and walked out to the corridor.  
  
* * *  
  
The wind was cold, even in the sheltered garden. I shivered but did not stop gazing around with interest at everything around me. Strahd was a meticulous guide, explaining the purpose of every room, its history and relation to everything else. I was permitted to spend time looking in every room we passed. The castle was frighteningly dark, but his presence was reassuring and allowed me the confidence to indulge my curiosity. Even so, I was certain he avoided some places. The deeper parts of the castle, where I assumed the dungeons must be, were missed. And sometimes while explaining, he would pause mid-sentence and fail to finish his phrase.  
  
He led me though the garden to a low wall that overlooked nothing. Nothing that I could see anyway. I was uncertain how far down he could see, but the light from my small lantern barely penetrated the thick blackness. I leaned further over the edge to peer into the blackness. I slight tug on my sleeve brought me around. He withdrew swiftly, but I thought I had seen a brief look of concern marking his smooth features. I smiled at him and turned to look into the darkness again, this time not leaning so close to the edge.  
  
The enveloping night refused to yield any vision, so instead I chose to reach forth with my mind to sense the land around the castle. It felt more alive than it ever had. Always at night, I realised, was the land most lively. I rejoiced in the feel of it, inviting it to wash over me. But it resisted. I was startled for a moment. Letting go, I turned away from the edge, disappointment plain on my face. After that I did not have the heart left to continue exploring. He led me then back to the library and left me there. Tired, I went to bed and slept.  
  
* * *  
  
Excerpt from Strahd's personal memoirs  
  
The years following her arrival in Castle Ravenloft saw us develop an interesting working relationship. For all purposes, she became my apprentice in the Art. Her mind was quick and focused and she made astounding progress in advancing her magical ability. Her curiosity was all encompassing, often leading her to deny herself sleep in her pursuit of particular skills and knowledge. But for all her skills, by far the greatest was her ability to commune directly with the land.  
  
It was her initial arrival in Barovia that first alerted me to this particular skill and led me to her. The land seemed to bubble with elation wherever she walked. Occasionally she would stretch her awareness to it and they would meld in a wonderfully perfect harmony of souls.  
  
I cannot say this impressed me a great deal. And indeed, I was given to no small amount of jealousy. This was, after all, my land. My Barovia. Always before it was I who affected the land. My moods dictated the weather, my will the poisonous mists that I could call upon. Yet for perhaps the first time, the land was affecting me. The joy it felt at her presence extended itself to me and I cannot help but want her near. Even now as she sleeps draped across a chair in my study, book still clasped in her hand, I feel the bond that holds us to her.  
  
Whatever the reason for her arrival here, it is my hope that she will stay. Hers is the most enjoyable company I've kept in centuries and I am running out of reasons to keep her in the castle.  
  
End excerpt.  
  
* * *  
  
Free at last. I bounded joyfully down the road from Castle Ravenloft. The afternoon sun shone warmly through the trees and I breathed the fragrant wooded air, such a change from the dark castle and its constant reek of death. Hefting my bag on my shoulder, I made my way down the sloping road towards the town of Barovia. Ostensibly I was on an errand to deliver some messages to the burgomaster there, but in truth my constant nagging had persuaded Strahd to allow me my first trip outside of Castle Ravenloft since my arrival there, five years ago. His arguments had begun to wear thin and I think he started to see the advantages of an aide who could walk about in daylight.  
  
I noted how different things looked from the ground as opposed to the towers of the castle. There was a detail to the landscape that could not be seen from above. Small animals skittered frivolously in the bushes by the side of the road and birds trilled from the trees. Barovia blushed with early summer flowers. I stooped to gather some from the roadside, giving some consideration to taking a bunch back to the castle with me. It felt good to be out.  
  
It did not take me long to reach the town, the steep gradient of the slope lending me a little more speed going down than it had on my ascent, years ago. I made my way to the centre of town. Following Strahd's directions on where to find the burgomaster, I had no trouble locating my destination. It was a large building, compared to the others around it. The door was closed, so I knocked and waited.  
  
A short servant dressed plainly in his work smock answered the door, "Can I help you miss?"  
  
"I have letters for the burgomaster, from Lord Strahd," I said, brandishing an oil sack.  
  
"Right this way," he directed me to a waiting room. "I will inform Master Theric you are here." He left and I took a seat on a nearby chair, carefully removing the bundled parchment from the sack. Shortly afterwards, a portly old man dressed somewhat garishly in a mustard vest bustled into the room.  
  
"Good afternoon miss, I understand you have letters from Lord Strahd?"  
  
I nodded and handed the bundle to him. He carefully opened the letters, one by one examining them closely, checking the Von Zarovich seal on each.  
  
"These appear to be in order," he nodded. "Are you perchance returning to... Castle Ravenloft?"  
  
"Yes, as soon as I am done here," I replied.  
  
"Of course," he said, eyeing me with a strange mixture of curiosity and awe. "I have some messages to write to Lord Strahd, if you can come back in an hour you will be able to carry them back to him with you."  
  
"I will return in an hour then," I said and took my leave. Exiting the house, I saw that there was still some time before sunset. I decided to have a look around the town. A few people still bustled in and out of shops along the street I stood on. Walking by, I paused to watch the blacksmith at work in his forge. The raw quality of manual labour was not something I had been often exposed to, neither in my homeland nor the Castle. He saw me watching and grinned toothlessly at me. I smiled in return and continued walking.  
  
The delicious smells coming from a bakery caught my attention and I remembered that in my haste to escape the castle, I'd not made much of a breakfast for myself. Entering, I found a delightful array of treats displayed before me. A middle-aged woman looked up and smiled in a friendly manner as I came in.  
  
"Well, missy, what can I get you?" she smiled.  
  
"What do you recommend?" I asked, bewildered by the selection of unfamiliar goodies.  
  
"Well now," she began thoughtfully. "This one here is popular. I enjoy it myself. But this one here has a lot more cream in it. You look like you could use some fattening up." She chuckled merrily at me. I smiled and selected the first one she had indicated. Fattening up indeed.  
  
I handed her a gold coin for payment. Strahd had given me several in case I should need them. She looked at it and blinked. "You'll not want to go flashing that around, missy," she cautioned. "There'll be folks who might want to take advantage of a pretty young thing like you." She counted out some coins and gave them to me along with my purchase. "Take care now." I smiled at her and left the store, finding an upturned barrel outside to sit on while I nibbled my treat.  
  
Raucous laughter interrupted my nibbling and I turned to see several rough looking men standing outside a building across the street. Watching them as I ate, they appeared to be absorbed in their conversation, but occasionally one or two of them would throw a quick glance in my direction. Unconcerned, I had far worse creatures to fill my bath every evening, I finished eating and began wandering back to the burgomaster's house.  
  
When I got there I found Master Theric, the burgomaster, outside talking to a servant holding the reins of a gray mare. He saw me approach and moved to greet me. "Ahhh miss. I am glad you have returned. I have done writing the letters for Lord Strahd, and you may assure him for me that all will be carried out as he has asked." He turned to take the reins from the servants hands. "Here is your horse miss, as Lord Strahd requested be provided for you. Her name is Mist, but you may call her whatever you wish."  
  
Frowning at the horse, I took Master Theric's offered hand and allowed him to help me into the saddle. Once I was seated, he handed me the reins which I held awkwardly.  
  
"The letters are in the saddlebag there. Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to stay until morning? It would be well dark by the time you arrived at the castle. It is best to be safe indoors when night falls. I would not forgive myself if something happened to you on your journey."  
  
I assured him that I would be fine and shook the reins to get my horse to move. She responded docilely and began walking down the road. I waved goodbye to Master Theric and encouraged my horse to a slow trot. This was efficient at bouncing me about in a most sickening manner and I held tight to the pommel to avoid falling off.  
  
Bouncing out of town, I noticed the men I had seen earlier were gone. Assuming they did not intend to stay out at night either, I promptly forgot them and concentrated on learning to ride more effectively.  
  
My horse was a steady creature, which I was grateful for. Mist, he had called her. I found it ironic that I was being carried by a Mist again, the name was amusingly appropriate. The sky was darkening as the sun sank behind the mountains. I was not concerned. I was not afraid of the night as were most other people in Barovia. I had rarely been awake in daylight during the past five years. I had learnt a simple light conjuring spell to aid me, should it become too dark for me to see. This would be unlikely since the moon was waxing to full and would provide enough light for my trip back to Castle Ravenloft. With a little practice, my uncomfortable bouncing ceased and I settled back to enjoy the evening air as I rode.  
  
I was startled out of my reverie by the sound of hoofbeats approaching rapidly. Looking about, surprised for it was almost dark, I tried to see who it was that was out so late. The sound grew louder and I realised that there were several horses. I reined in my horse as they came around a bend in front of me. They slowed to a stop, only a few feet away. A bunch of rough looking men, they did not look much like any Barovians I had seen before, their features were sharper, more angular. They peered at me in the dim light, the lead man leaning towards me. I recognised him as one of the men I'd seen earlier in town. He grinned at me and it wasn't at all friendly.  
  
"Where are you off to so late, young lady? It's dark for travelling."  
  
"I am going home," I replied calmly.  
  
"And where might that be? Not much up that way save for the dead. Have you not heard the stories of what creatures haunt these here woods?"  
  
"I am going to Castle Ravenloft. I am expected back tonight." A few of them glanced uneasily in the direction of the castle, although it was not visible from here.  
  
The leader continued, "Perhaps you will allow us to escort you there. It is hardly safe to travel alone at night." I frowned. I had no wish for company. Yet I did not wish to provoke any unpleasantness, so I nodded briefly to him. He grinned again and drew his horse around.  
  
"After you, my lady." I ignored the note of mockery in his voice. The rest of the men waited until I had gone past before drawing in behind me. I wrapped my cloak tight about me. Strahd had offered me a protective amulet but I had refused, determined that I would be alright on my own. And I would be. A rabble of rough men would not be enough to hinder me.  
  
Abruptly I noticed that they were crowding in on me, my horse was growing agitated. The leader grinned at me again. I frowned and spurred my horse forward, away from them. They followed, closing in further. One man rode ahead to block my path, forcing me off the road and into the forest. Suddenly I felt hands grab me from behind, pulling me from the saddle. More hands seized me. I was dragged to a nearby tree, my hands wrenched behind me and tied together. I growled my impotent fury at them. Desperately struggling against my captors. The leader chuckled at me as one of his men began rifling through the saddlebags. He came over to me and began searching me, I assumed for valuables.  
  
He pulled several coins from my pocket and held them triumphantly in my face. "Young ladies shouldn't be travelling so late alone. There are dangerous men in these woods." I snarled at him, inciting more laughter.  
  
He stopped laughing as one of his men grabbed his arm. It was the one who had been searching my saddlebags. He showed a piece of parchment to the leader. "This one is addressed to Strahd von Zarovich. She really was going to the castle. I think we should leave quickly." The leader paused, then nodded. They gathered their horses and prepared to leave.  
  
Too late apparently, for even as they mounted a series of low growls sent the horses rearing wildly. Several of the men were tossed clear as their horses raced off into the woods. Cursing, they looked about for the cause of the sound. This they discovered as four snarling wolves stepped out from the shadows. One wolf swiftly raced for the leader, catching his throat in its savage jaws and tearing off his scream before it had barely begun.  
  
I winced, then jumped as something grabbed my hands. I twisted my head around and stared up into Strahd's dark eyes.  
  
* * *  
  
I muttered to myself as I trudged towards the castle gates. My horse had fled with the others so I had been forced to walk the rest of the way back. To add insult to the fact, I was overtaken about halfway by several hypnotized men and two zombies.  
  
I had been singularly ungrateful about my rescue, not saying anything to Strahd, leaving him to his chase as I marched back to the road. Neutralizing the poisonous fog so I could pass, I stalked across the courtyard and up the stairs of the castle to the library. Strahd looked up from the book he was reading and watched me remove my cloak and kick my shoes off.  
  
"I was fine on my own," I told him bluntly. "I didn't need any help." His eyebrows shot up and his mouth opened as though he were about to protest. But he apparently changed his mind.  
  
"Of course," he nodded seriously.  
  
"Next time don't follow me. I can take care of myself."  
  
"I see. Next time." He barely suppressed a smile as I sat down opposite him.  
  
Staring at my hands a moment, I grudgingly looked at him. "Thankyou."  
  
He wisely chose not to pursue the matter. "I had food brought up for you."  
  
I nodded. "And you? I trust you ate well this evening."  
  
"Quite well, thankyou."  
  
I rested my elbows on the table and leaned into my hands, examining his face as I had many times before. The soft candlelight took the harsh lines from his face and he looked exceptionally handsome as he idly flicked through the book in his hands. Closing it, he looked across at me. "What's on your mind?"  
  
I thought about that for a moment. "I liked having the opportunity to be out and about today. It occurred to me on my journey today that I am growing older. Immortality is not mine as it is yours. I would like the opportunity to see more of the land myself before I am too old to leave the castle."  
  
"You are hardly aged yet." he reassured softly. "Still as young and lively as you were when you first came here. You have many years left to explore my land at length. I will make sure you receive your fill. You should rest now, you've had a long day."  
  
As I listened to him my head grew heavy in my hands, I was not sure if it were my own tiredness claiming me or a charm of his to put me to sleep. Drifting off, I was roused as I felt strong hands enclosing me, lifting me. Opening my sleepy eyes as he carried me out of the room, I reached one hand up to touch the tip of his pointed ear, letting my fingers stroke his cheek as they fell. He looked down at me, his face close to mine and lowered me to my bed. "Sleep," he whispered and I did.  
  
* * *  
  
I awoke late the next night. Strahd was nowhere to be found. I searched the castle for him. He had just gone. This was not all that much of a surprise. He had often disappeared for days, weeks, even a month without a word, on some errand or another. This allowed me the leisure to continue my studies free of his watchful gaze, eager to point out every mistake I made.  
  
I settled down to contemplate my latest theory. It was my thought that while I myself were independent of either good or evil, my close proximity to dark powers in both Strahd himself and Castle Ravenloft had an effect on my ability to learn magic. For this reason I found it easiest to master dark magic. I had thus far found nothing to support my theory, but continued searching anyway, completely engrossed in my work.  
  
Thus it was that I was still up well after sunrise. The castle was quiet be it day or night, so I was startled when a loud thud echoed through the courtyard, loud enough to be heard from the library. Curious, I ventured out to the balcony, blinking in the sudden light and peering down into the shaded courtyard. Seeing nothing, I was about to go down and investigate when I saw a furtive movement in the shadows below the portcullis. It was a man.  
  
He edged his way along the wall towards the keep, casting apprehensive glances at the high towers, although he did not see me. Completely intrigued, there had been no human visitors inside the castle since my initial arrival, I raced down the stairs to go greet this stranger.  
  
By the time I found him, he was gingerly prying at the door to the south tower. He did not see me approach. "I wouldn't go in there if I were you." I cautioned, knowing what depraved creatures Strahd kept in there.  
  
He whirled around faster than I'd have imagined, a look of terror on his face. Raising a holy symbol of some description towards me he all but shrieked, "Begone foul demon!" and lunged at me with the object in his other hand he'd been using to pry at the door. A wooden stake I realised. This man was a vampire hunter?  
  
Dodging swiftly out of his reach, I raised my voice to him, "I'm not a demon, I'm a human like you." And to demonstrate I stepped out lightly into a golden stream of sunlight filtering downwards. "See?" I stretched my arms out, feeling the warmth. He stared at me blankly, I could see the understanding slowly transform his face and he lowered his weapons.  
  
Still suspicious however, he proceeded to question my credentials, "How can a person stand to be in such a foul, wretched place as this? Who are you?"  
  
"Zhaya," I replied. "I live here."  
  
His eyes widened, if possible, even further. "You live here? With the Devil? What kind of creature are you?"  
  
"I am a person," I said again, growing impatient with this superstitious fool. "And yes, I live here. With Lord Strahd."  
  
He considered that a moment. "Is he home then?"  
  
Did this fool actually believe I'd just hand the sleeping vampire over to him on a silver platter? "No he's not. He went out on an errand and has not yet returned. He may be gone weeks."  
  
"Oh.." Disappointment clearly marked his features.  
  
Suddenly craving human company I asked, "Can I interest you in a cup of tea then?"  
  
"Alright, thankyou," he smiled. I led him up to the library, noting on the way his fearful reaction to everything in sight. Once there I set about boiling some water for tea. He was obviously impressed with the extend of Strahd's collection of books. However I admonished him not to touch anything, so he merely scanned the titles.  
  
"Who is that lovely young woman?" he asked, indicating Tatyana's portrait over the mantelpiece.  
  
"I don't know," I lied. "He never speaks of her." Not a lie. Strahd had not mentioned her once during my entire stay, although I had often found him silently gazing at her picture. The visitor shrugged and dismissed it. I realised I did not have a clue who he was.  
  
"Tell me, who are you and what brings you to go snooping around peoples homes like this?"  
  
He blinked, perhaps considering his intrusion from my perspective for the first time, and realising it could easily be found in error. "I am Yosef. Hans Yosef. I had a copy of a book on monsters by Van Richten. He mentioned in it that he had been unable to rid Barovia of it's dark ruler.." he trailed off.  
  
"And so you thought you'd be a hero and come finish the job." I finished for him. He nodded. He was such a timid man. I wondered where from he got the courage to actually enter Castle Ravenloft. He'd be no match for the guarding spells that Strahd had in place all over the castle. "It's fortunate for you that I found you then, before you got yourself into trouble. This castle is not a safe place. Lord Strahd does not look kindly on intruders."  
  
Yosef looked afraid, again. "You won't tell him I was here will you?"  
  
"Not unless you intend to come back again," I smiled.  
  
"Oh no, I shan't be returning. You make a lovely cup of tea Miss. It reminds me of my dear Elizabetha. I think I shall return to my home and put this crazy nonsense behind me, before I get myself killed."  
  
We conversed for some time after that. I learnt a great deal about common life in Barovia and even some about neighboring lands adjoining it. Finally however, his growing apprehension about being here when dark fell inspired him to take his leave, offering me a standing invitation to visit his home beside Lake Zarovich, near Vallaki, which I promised I'd accept if I were ever in the area.  
  
The next several weeks passed quickly. Strahd did not return and I passed my days in careful study, practicing sometimes on the undead who walked the castle. I was growing quite proficient at raising them, which was useful for when I needed something done. Controlling them, however was another matter entirely and required a great deal of my concentration. I spent some time in Strahd's workroom practicing on two dead bodies I had pilfered from the dungeons.  
  
Returning to the library one night after many hours working, I was startled to discover Strahd sitting on a chair by the fire. He looked haggard, his clothing torn in places and covered in dirt. His face was gaunt and gray. He looked up at me as I entered, the unmistakable look of hunger in his eyes. He suppressed it. Hesitantly I sat down, not too close to him.  
  
"The miserable fools. They dare attack Barovia. They dare attack me!" he snarled, bringing one clenched fist down on the table.  
  
"Who?" I asked.  
  
"Some beasts that dragged themselves out of the Shadow Rift," he replied. "You need not concern yourself with the details. But I require you to do a few tasks for me." He looked me over, once again hunger twisted his features. Without another word he stalked from the room.  
  
I considered that. My stay had been a peaceful one. None had threatened Strahd's rule since long before my arrival. I found it strange that we were being thus accosted now. Strahd himself appeared more annoyed at the audacity of it than anything else. Still, he'd looked a little the worse for wear when I came in. Obviously whatever these things were, they weren't to be taken lightly.  
  
Strahd returned later, looking refreshed and as neatly dressed as usual. He'd moved most of his belongings out of the bedroom shortly after my occupancy of it. His cheeks bore the colourful flush that indicated he'd fed recently, which I was glad to know would stop his hungry eyes from staring too long at my exposed throat. He inquired after the progress of my studies and I was happy to fill him in on everything I'd managed to accomplish in his absence. I considered not telling him about Yosef's visit, but changed my mind and told him anyway. There are no secrets from the Lord of Barovia.  
  
Normally perhaps, he'd have been more irritated by the intrusion in his castle, but with his mind so occupied on the greater intrusion to his land he did not give it much thought.  
  
"Perhaps I should pay this Yosef a visit," he said frowning.  
  
"Leave him alone," I suggested. "He was just a simple man puffed up with grand notions. Just being here robbed him of any desire for heroic exploits. He won't return."  
  
"If you say so," he shrugged. "I can't say your methods were such that I'd have employed myself though. Inviting him to tea? Far too lenient."  
  
"Forgive me, but it is not my wont to eat my visitors." I teased him gently.  
  
He chuckled lightly, "As always your company cheers me." His face became serious again, "There is little time for pleasure however. You must travel to Lake Baratak, in the north. I have a task I do not trust to anyone else. Pack what you will, you leave shortly before sunrise." And he proceeded to instruct me in my task.  
  
Shortly before sunrise, packed and ready I was transported directly to my destination by means of a spell Strahd cast. This was startling for me, to be standing one moment in Castle Ravenloft's familiar walls, and the next moment beside a wide lake, surrounded by forest. Taking my bearings from the dawn-streaked sky I headed north, as I had been instructed, and shortly came across a small encampment.  
  
I entered the encampment, mentioning the password I was given to the guard. I then went to a large tent in the middle of the camp and ducked under the flap. The interior was dark, but my eyes, accustomed to darkness, quickly adjusted. I saw a tall man seated at a table, poring over several maps which I recognised to be of northern Barovia. He looked up, startled as I entered.  
  
"How did you get in here?" he asked.  
  
"I have been sent by Lord Strahd. I am told I am to guide you to the rendezvous point where you will be met by him for the next stage in his plans."  
  
"You are the Guide?" he stared incredulously at me.  
  
"Apparently so," I nodded.  
  
He shook his head, "We'll all be killed. Sent out against the traps our foes have laid with nothing more than a little girl to guide us through them."  
  
I frowned. Strahd had not mentioned I would be forced to deal with obstinate fools. Impatiently I said to him, "Are you coming or not? I will leave in an hour, just as I was instructed. Make up your mind before then." I turned and walked outside.  
  
Having an hour to wait, I set about practicing what I would need for the task. My job was to sense traps. Magical and physical. My unique ability to sense the land had evolved into an elaborate means of scrying. I could find traps and either neutralise them or avoid them, whichever was easier. Without any limitation placed on me by daylight, I could speed up the progress of these men and get them safely to where Strahd needed them, all while he rested for the day.  
  
Sitting cross-legged on the grass, just inside the camp perimeter, I cleared my mind and reached out to the earth beneath me. As had happened so many times before, I felt the land spring up to meet me. I sensed every contour, every tree, every animal, every blade of grass surrounding the camp. I felt the protective spell cast over the camp and recognised it as Strahd's work. I extended my reach and felt the path north-east in the direction we were to follow. Far ahead I sensed, and yes, there. A spell. Faint at first, and then stronger as I concentrated on it. And behind it, some creatures lurked. Undead minions set as ambush. Opening my eyes I stood and watched as the camp was broken and the men prepared to leave, not releasing my link to the land.  
  
When all was done, the leader I'd spoken to first, Strahd had called him Bertram, came over to me.  
  
"We are ready to leave now. A horse has been prepared for you."  
  
And so we went. The going was easy at first. Uneventful and we passed most of the morning with little to challenge us save a few undead guards and a selection of simple spells. As midday approached we stopped for lunch. I released my link and allowed myself to rest awhile. Eating quietly away from the others, I stretched my muscles, cramped after the long ride. I was not accustomed to groups of people. My years in Castle Ravenloft with only Strahd for company had withered my skills in socializing. I noticed how they shot cautious glances in my direction. It bothered me a little.  
  
All of a sudden, the sense of the land rose up to me of its own volition, seizing my mind almost painfully. Clutching my head with my hands, I ignored the startled reaction of the others as I sought to make sense of the jumbled images I received. Someone. Someone powerful. Heading towards us. We were about to be attacked.  
  
I shouted a warning to Bertram even as an animate skeleton stumbled out of the trees to attack us. Dozens more followed. They outnumbered us greatly, I could see. The men leapt forward fearlessly to counter the attack. I held back from the fighting, not really sure I could do anything but get in the way.  
  
I could sense the wizard controlling them, he was back amongst the trees, using his Sight to control the skeletons. If I couldn't help with them, at least I might be able to do something about the one who sent them. I concentrated on the ground around him, but before I could do anything, I felt the ground beneath my feet stirring. He had seen me. The grassy earth rose up in a large wave as though to swallow me whole.  
  
My link to the land was much stronger however, and it quickly settled back to normal with a gentle push of my will. Concentrating again, I turned the same trick on the one who'd done it to me. Startled, he first sought to wrest control of the rising earth. When that failed, he started to run, attempting to flee from the crushing death that promised to take him. With a twist of my will, the ground he ran across became thick and soft, clinging to his legs and halting his progress.  
  
The wave of dirt crashed over him with a roar, not loud enough to drown out his panicked scream that choked off to a muffled gurgle. I looked about me to see the skeletons fall into useless piles of bone. Sinking down to sit on the ground, overwhelmed by sudden exhaustion, I watched as Bertram ordered his men to round up the horses and posted two sentries before walking towards me.  
  
"Forgive me for doubting you, Lady," he said, sitting down beside me and offering me a canister of water which I gratefully accepted. "Lord Strahd was wise to send you."  
  
I nodded my acceptance of the apology, "Your men handled themselves well, I shall be sure to inform Strahd of their bravery." He looked at me curiously, and I realised I'd accidentally dropped the title when mentioned Strahd's name. Strahd had never insisted that I call him 'lord', merely accepting my use of his first name. However I was well aware that few others in Barovia dared to call him such. Dismissing my mistake, I turned to Bertram, "Shall we press on then?"  
  
He nodded and helped me to my horse, rounding up his men with a few shouted orders. The rest of the journey was uneventful, but I now found myself the centre of attention. Several men took turns in riding beside me, talking about themselves and questioning me regarding my own interests. I was guarded about my history and my life in Castle Ravenloft. Fortunately none inquired too closely about either. Instead they passed the time regaling me with amusing stories of their adventures and reciting poetry. It occurred to me after a while that some of these men were attempting to pay court to me. Flattered, I smiled at their antics and laughed at their humor.  
  
Their behavior continued even after we arrived at the rendezvous point and set up camp. As darkness fell we sat around a campfire and ate supper. I did not release my link to the land, so I noticed Strahd standing just beyond the light of the fire long before he entered the camp. As he had not yet chosen to reveal himself, I pretended I didn't know he was there. Applauding with delight at the latest song composed by my admirers to glorify my exploits, I requested an encore and received one. Through my link I could feel Strahd growing irritated, and shortly after the encore was done he strode darkly into the firelight.  
  
Startled, the men scrambled to their feet, Bertram rushing out to greet him. He barely acknowledged them, walking over to stand before me as I stood up.  
  
"I trust you had no trouble handling your task," he said, a little coldly. "Everyone is here I see. You may return to Castle Ravenloft and await my return." I could feel him brimming with barely suppressed anger. I couldn't understand what I'd done to upset him so. I nodded silently to him and allowed him to transport me back to the castle.  
  
I waited for most of the night in the library. I hadn't slept in two days but I was concerned about Strahd. I didn't want him to be angry at me, for any reason. Aside from the obvious dangers involved in offending the Lord of Barovia, I had grown kind of fond of him in the years since my arrival in Barovia. He was my teacher and mentor and his opinion mattered to me. I hoped he had not found fault with the first real task he'd entrusted to me.  
  
I awoke, startled at a touch on my cheek. He looked down at me, face softening under my gaze, "You did well today. I am impressed with your progress." I beamed with pride at his praise. It was rare for him to offer such approval.  
  
"Thanks to your help today," he continued. "We were able to force them out of Barovia. I don't think they will return any time soon." He paused a moment, his face growing distant, "My men were... grateful for your assistance." I blinked when suddenly it occurred to me. Strahd was jealous. He did not like the attention I had gotten from the soldiers. It should not have been such a surprise, given his history.  
  
I chuckled, earning a dark look from him, "Yours is the only praise I sought," I soothed him. He seemed to cheer a little at that and proceeded to send me to my bed with instructions to stay there until I was completely rested.  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
Excerpt from Strahd's personal memoirs  
  
She eased the darkness from my bleak existence. Her joys, fears and triumphs she shared with me. She trusted me completely and in return I could not help but soften towards her. As the years progressed, so did her skills, and so did her age. She hated it, almost as I had. She complained of it often, using my own immortality as an impossible ideal to compare herself to.  
  
So it was that experimentation in her theories about dark magic led her to Azalin's notes. Harnessing life essence from dying men became her new study. Of course I did not discover this until one night as I supped in my dungeon. She had followed me there and as my victim died in my arms, overly weakened from too many such nights, she reached out and seized his life force before it slipped away. I noticed her standing there, transforming before my eyes from a mature woman in her thirties to a young girl of barely twenty. She looked remarkably like she had when I first met her. And remarkably pleased with herself.  
  
From then on she appeared as though time had passed her by, even as it had for me. Less concerned with the passage of time, she took to her studies with renewed vigor. After time I even began to learn from her. Our idyllic and peaceful life of study continued for many years. I had never felt so akin to someone else in my life. I wished it would never end.  
  
End excerpt  
  
* * *  
  
Closing the book before me and rubbing my eyes, I sighed. I had been sitting there for several days, lacking the motivation to do anything much at all. Strahd was down in his workroom seeing to some bodies he'd recovered from somewhere. Idly I picked up the crystal ball he'd left on the table. I had been taught to use it, but still preferred my own means of scrying the land. Rolling it between my hands I let my eyes wander around the room, they came to rest on the portrait above the fire. One night, in a particularly sensitive mood, he'd confessed the full extent of his feelings for Tatyana. Telling of the torture he felt every time he'd lost her over the centuries, the agony that never quite went away.  
  
I thought about it for a while, he was not often given to expressing his emotions so openly. It was some time before I noticed a small flicker in the centre of the crystal. Looking more closely at it and concentrating, an image formed clearly. A young woman, sleeping in the moonlight. Startled, I looked up at the portrait and down at the crystal again. Comparing.  
  
I did not notice Strahd enter, he walked so silently. Only the prickle of tension I felt when he saw what I was looking at alerted me to his presence. I watched his face closely, he was oblivious to my observation. I could almost feel his heart leaping in his chest and it sent a chill through me. He gently took the crystal from me, cradling it in his hands.  
  
He did not even notice me leave.  
  
* * *  
  
Sitting immobile, I stared silently at the wall. I had been listening to Tatyana, or Marelle, or whatever she was called, prattle on all afternoon. She appeared unconcerned with my silence, taking the opportunity to talk more and more about Strahd and how happy she was he'd come, back, into her life. Strahd, of course, had wasted no time finding her and re-igniting her 'memories' of him. He'd entrusted me with the task of watching over her during the daylight. He seemed convinced that under my capable watch, she would suffer no harm and would therefore survive long enough to be his bride.  
  
I took the whole thing with ill grace, littering their happy discourse with snide remarks and sarcasm. Which they ignored. I wished things would just go back to normal. But they didn't.  
  
"Oh don't you think that would be wonderful Zhaya?" she effused at me. I smiled and nodded, not really caring what she was talking about. "The white of the flowers will go well with my dress." Fabulous. She was talking about her wedding plans again.  
  
I tuned out the sound of her voice, gazing out the window at the setting sun. He would be here soon and they would resume their devotions to each other. My stomach twisted into yet another knot as I thought about it.  
  
"Oh, it is nearly night. Zhaya, you must help me dress," she instructed. I helped her into her dress, tightening the laces at the back. I then took up the comb and stroked her long tresses carefully. She took the comb from me and swiftly tied her hair up atop her head. "There," she said. "All ready."  
  
She noticed him arrive before I did, so intent was I in my study of the window frame. He swept her up joyously into his arms and I left the room, closing the door behind me.  
  
Walking out into the night, I let my resentment wash over me. All these years and now I was to be nothing but her babysitter. He didn't care, so long as she was in his life. Even the land seemed cold to me now and I rejected its touch. Wandering out into the forest, I curled up beneath a large tree and slept.  
  
The next morning I waited outside until he'd left, passing him on my way in to take over my watch. "Don't let any harm come to her," he admonished. I ignored him.  
  
She was sleeping when I found her. I mentally probed her body for any signs of illness or weakness that she might die from in the next hour or so. Finding none, I sat on my chair and resumed my study of the wall. She slept the rest of the morning, leaving me blessedly free of her chatter. I let my thoughts wander, thinking about old times.  
  
It was shortly after noon when I first noticed her stirring. She twisted in her bed, her face taking on a tortured look. "Sergei," she moaned. I stood up, panicked. She had better not die on my watch. Strahd would never forgive me. She had begun writhing, as though in pain. Swiftly I checked her forehead, she was feverish. Not knowing what else I could do, I once again probed her body with my mind. Sickness swamped my mind, so overpowering I almost retched. Forcing my stomach to be still, I probed further, for the cause.  
  
At first I could find nothing. Then I felt something deep within her, so deep I could hardly reach it. Pushing my way in with all my willpower, I seized hold of something. It felt like a small, thin thread attached to her heart. Blackness oozed from it, so slick and sickening it took all my concentration to hold onto it. Willing myself to strength I'd never known I possessed, I wrenched at it, attempting to dislodge it from her heart. Desperately I tore at it, it felt like fire in my hands, burning me.  
  
She was dying. I knew it without having to look at her. Her heart slowed and her breathing stopped. I gave the last of my strength into one final pull. I felt it give, weakening under my force until finally it was torn free. And vanished. I sank into unconsciousness.  
  
Opening my eyes, I blinked at the darkness. Remembering where I was I quickly rose. She was lying in her bed, staring at the ceiling. At first I thought she was dead. But then I saw the gentle rise and fall of her chest. My head was spinning alarmingly, but I forced myself to check her over. All trace of the sickness was gone. Was it possible?  
  
"Tatyana?" I whispered to her.  
  
She did not answer at first. I was about to say her name again when she spoke. "I remember. I remember everything Zhaya. I... I remember... Strahd."  
  
Like a knife in the belly, the full realization of what I'd done hit me with brutal force. I'd freed her. I'd freed her from Strahd's curse, from the dark powers. From her cycle of death. She was going to live. Live out the rest of her life. With him.  
  
With an agonized wail I struggled to my feet. "What have I done?" I cried to the uncaring ceiling. "I've lost him now. Forever. And for what?" I turned on her. "You will never love him half as much as I do," I said, surprising myself with my words. "He will never see that though, so blinded by his obsession with you. I should have let you die!" She did not even look at me. Still caught up in her sudden release, I didn't even know if she'd heard me. I didn't care. I turned and fled from the room, from the house, from the town. Running, I did not care where I went, so long as I escaped from here. From him. From Barovia.  
  
Panting with sudden exhaustion, my torment slipping enough to let in a moment of reason, I initiated a teleportation spell I'd learnt from Strahd. My vision swirled as the spell took effect and I found myself staring into the darkness at Barovia's southern border. Walking with renewed vigor, I stepped across the border... And bounced back.  
  
Staring incredulously at the invisible barrier, I let my anger take hold of me and slammed my fist into it. It bounced back. I could not even escape Barovia. Never in all my years here had I attempted to cross the border. Indeed, I had no interest in the neighboring lands, content in my idyllic life in Castle Ravenloft. Now, only now when I truly wished to be free of it, I discovered that I was trapped like Strahd.  
  
Calming myself, I thought about it logically for a moment. It made no sense. I was not bound to the land like Strahd. Why should I be trapped in Barovia? I tried to recall everything Strahd had said about his examination of the borders. He'd tried to cross and they were like a solid barrier to him, whatever form he was in. Solid. But it wasn't solid. Not for me. It moved when I pushed it. I had literally bounced back from it.  
  
Standing I braced myself and pushed into it, hard. It stretched, not wanting to give, resisting me. But I kept pushing, driving myself with reminders of the life I would live if I stayed. Little by little it gave under my force. Straining with the effort, I screamed at the land, at Barovia. "I am not yours! We are not one! LET ME GO!" And it did. I fell solidly onto foreign soil.  
  
* * *  
  
Strahd speaks.  
  
Quietly, I crept into Tatyana's room, not wanting to disturb her. Zhaya was nowhere to been seen, but I wasn't concerned, she could look after herself. Sensing my presence, Tatyana lifted her head and looked at me, smiling.  
  
"Something wonderful has happened," she greeted me. "I am free!" She got up and threw herself into my arms. Surprised, I looked at her.  
  
"What has happened?" I asked.  
  
"I was sick, and Zhaya did something to me and I felt all the sickness drain away. And then memories started coming back. I remember everything." She let go of me and I considered the implications of what she said, not daring to hope, but hoping nonetheless.  
  
"I feel wonderful, Old One," she laughed. I froze. She had called me... The first stabbing pain seized my heart. She said something more, but I could not hear her. A second, less intense pain twisted at me.  
  
"Elder? Did you hear me?" Calming myself, I looked at her lovely features. "I said I wanted to search for Sergei. If I have been reborn then surely he must be too somewhere. I will search if it takes all my life."  
  
Her words should have cut me like a dagger, and indeed I did hurt to hear them. But I was beyond listening to her and doubled over as I felt a pain in my heart such as I'd never felt before. Not in all the centuries of losing Tatyana had my pain been so intense, so complete. Wrenching at my heart as though to tear it free of my chest. That is how it felt. A strain so strong I felt I'd be torn apart. Resisting as much as I could, I fought back. The pain did not lessen, it only increased. Dimly in the back of my mind I could hear Tatyana's voice, filled with concern. But it did not matter. All I could think of was ridding myself of this pain as it threatened to rip me asunder. Crying out in agony, I heard a voice raised to meet my own. "LET ME GO!" it cried. Startled by the torture in Zhaya's voice, I stopped resisting. Then she was gone, along with all the pain. And I was left feeling more empty and alone than I ever had in my life.  
  
Recovering from the struggle, I raced swiftly to the border, the exact spot where I had felt her leave. She was not there. She was gone. Sinking to my knees, I buried my face in the damp Barovian soil and wept like a broken- hearted child. Too late. Too late to realize how much I needed her. How much a part of me she truly was. Too blinded by my selfish fancy to notice where my heart had led me. And now she was gone. I did not know if I would ever have her back.  
  
Alone, I made my way back to my empty castle.  
  
End excerpt  
  
* * *  
  
Snarling my rage, I swept the miserable wretch up in a tornado of solid fire, burning him horribly until I chose to crush him with the force of the thing, viciously twisting it in on itself until it tore him apart. Absorbing his life force into my own, I felt invigorated, but it did not cease the torture of the wound in my side.  
  
Wheeling my horse around, I clung to the reins with one hand, clutching my side with the other. The midday sun filtered in dappled rays through to the forest floor. It would be dusk before I made it back to the last village I passed. That was assuming I did not come across another foolish wizard like the one I'd just dispatched. Still, that was the burden of carrying a price on my head.  
  
The last ten years had seen me wander through many lands. I avoided the dark lords of the domain, and they in turn hunted me ruthlessly. I had not sought to forge an alliance with any of them. Not since one had instead tried to use me to goad Strahd into an open confrontation. My reputation as Strahd's pet had preceded me as I begun my exile from Barovia. My reputation as a dangerous, annoying threat had soon replaced it. I was unable to stay longer than a few weeks in one place.  
  
Hoofbeats approaching rapidly alerted me to potential danger. My ability to scry the land was apparently limited only to Barovia, and I'd never quite adjusted to its absence. I was in no condition to embark on a mad dash through the woods, so I chose to stand my ground and face whatever was coming.  
  
As he rode rapidly around the bend, he saw me and startled, he reined his horse in. Too sharply, for it reared and threw him. He tumbled to the ground and I heard the sickening crunch as he landed. His horse took the opportunity to flee back the way it had come. Dismounting painfully, I limped over to him.  
  
He was still alive, his blond hair was tangled with leaves from the forest, his blue eyes open but dazed. His left leg was broken, twisted at an odd angle.  
  
"This will hurt," I said, taking hold of his leg and wrenching it back into place. He screamed once before sinking back into the leaves. Taking a strip of cloth I'd intended to bandage my own side, I wrapped his leg in a splint, tying it tightly.  
  
"Who are you?" he breathed softly.  
  
"I could ask the same of you," I replied.  
  
"I am Erik," he said. "I am from a place not far from here. The countryside is more hostile than I expected. Your kindness is well received."  
  
I nodded and sat down slowly beside him.  
  
"You are injured too," he said, looking at the wound in my side.  
  
"It is nothing," I replied.  
  
Abruptly he laughed, a rippling, golden sound. "What a joke someone would have to see us here now! A pair of cripples lying in the middle of the road. Perhaps I should throw out my hat so passers by might toss us a few coins?" My smile turned into a chuckle that threatened to tear my wound even further. Gasping for breath, I calmed myself.  
  
"We cannot stay here," I said. "You yourself said it was a hostile place. We must go."  
  
"I would gladly go, Lady, but I have no horse and I am not sure I can walk like this." I had noticed that. Probing his mind gently, I gleaned the location of where he was staying. A country villa several miles west of where we were. Initiating a teleportation spell, I brought us there.  
  
Startled, he sat up, falling back down again as pain shot up his leg. "How did you...? You are a mage?" I nodded. "I had no idea, forgive me."  
  
I shrugged it off lightly. A servant left a nearby building, casting a surprised glance in our direction.  
  
"Master Erik? Oh dear, what has happened? I shall fetch your Aunt." He bustled off into the villa.  
  
Erik turned to me, "I wish to thank you for your help. Will you stay here until your wound is healed?"  
  
Weakened from my efforts, I was in no condition to go any further this day, so I accepted. A mature woman came hurrying out of the villa towards us, several servants trailing her.  
  
"Oh Erik! Oh your poor thing. Come, let us carry you inside." The servants lifted him gently and carried him into the villa, she fussed over him the whole time. I picked myself up off the ground and limped along after them.  
  
I stayed there for several weeks, content for the first time in years. Their simple country life was a salve to my wearied spirit. Erik became my constant companion. Headstrong and lively, he would often invent many activities for us, everything from swordplay to hunting and swimming.  
  
Every evening we would sit up late telling stories to each other, some humorous, some sad. I told him some of my past history, substituting names and dates to keep up my facade of being a young woman. I thought it best not to let him know I was fast approaching fifty years of age. He never questioned me however, accepting everything I said at face value. His was such an honest nature. He seemed oblivious to the evil that stalked the land. I did not think it my place to destroy his innocent view of the world. Indeed, it was comforting sometimes to see the world through his eyes.  
  
I felt very much at home with him, so it was with startled annoyance that I entered the sitting room to find him pale and shaken, holding a letter in his hands.  
  
"What is it?" I asked, worried.  
  
He sighed unhappily, "I have been called upon for service in the army. Our land is going to war."  
  
"War?" I asked. "You should not go."  
  
"I have no choice," he said mournfully. "It is my duty."  
  
"Then I will go with you."  
  
"You will?" he thought about that for a moment. "I should like that very much." He smiled taking my hands.  
  
"We will fight side by side and protect each other," I smiled in return.  
  
"Yes," he declared. "Together we will defeat the enemy Barovia and send its lord howling into the Mists." My heart almost skipped a beat.  
  
"Barovia?" I asked. He noticed the sudden change in my attitude.  
  
"Is there some problem? You are still coming with me aren't you?"  
  
"Of course I am," I resumed my smile. "Together we will defeat the enemy Barovia."  
  
Comforted by the prospect of my joining him, Erik made his preparations in a flurry of excitement. I did my best to share his enthusiasm in the face of the chill that had settled over my heart. Soon we were ready to depart and began the journey to the border, where the army was camped.  
  
Cresting a rise the valley spread out before us and I looked down at the army that threatened my land. Not my land I reminded myself. Yet I still could not shake the feeling that these were the enemy. Not Barovia. We rode down into the camp and were assigned a sector by the guard on duty. Erik quickly made friends among the soldiers. I however, hung back from them. It seemed wrong.  
  
"Zhaya, come join us," Erik beckoned. I shook my head to him. One of the men near him, an awful hairy brute of a man, made a comment I could not hear. They all laughed. Irritated, I whispered a spell and ignited his beard, causing him to jump about in panic trying to put out the flames. Silenced, they let me be and I sat by myself, awake for the rest of the night.  
  
Darkness cloaked its presence but I sensed I was being watched. Remaining still, I waited until it came into view of its own choice. A desiccated figure he was. Long black robes hanging loosely from his thin frame. He reeked of depravation and the light of madness shone from his eyes. He observed me a moment longer before speaking to me.  
  
"You have skill," he rasped. "They were right for once. I sense it in you." I said nothing. "You will be useful to us."  
  
"Useful for what?" My curiosity getting the better of me.  
  
He laughed, a singularly unpleasant sound. "Defeating the enemy Barovia. You will be informed of your tasks." He turned and vanished into the shadows.  
  
Henceforth I was given a different place in the army. The morning a guard to my tent, who proceeded to escort me to the centre of the camp, where I understood the generals kept their headquarters. I was directed to a large pavilion and told to wait inside. The lighting was dim, the interior blanketed with thick carpets and tapestries, sectioning off different areas of the pavilion. I took a seat on a nearby chair, waiting for whoever it was I was to meet.  
  
A large man in a richly decked uniform emerged from a section to the rear of the pavilion. H walked purposefully towards me and sat down.  
  
"You are the mage?" he said, more of a statement than a question. I nodded and he continued. "We have need of your services tonight. We have planned an attack under the cover of night. The enemy has shown a willingness to employ magical arts to attack our troops. Are you able to counter such attacks to allow our troops to get through?"  
  
I thought about it for a moment. He was asking me to battle Strahd, my teacher. He had taught me everything and now I was to use it against him. To betray him completely. It seemed so very wrong, but I could not help but think that I had already sunk so low it did not matter where I chose to crawl. And I was surprised to discover, looking deep within my heart, that my resentment still flared as hotly as it ever had.  
  
"I can counter his spells," I confirmed. "However, I can do nothing about the poisonous fog that can be called upon to block Barovia's border."  
  
He nodded. "We have encountered the fog. We have been working on ways to circumvent its effects. Good, you will be positioned on a vantage point near the border, overlooking the battlefield. Report to the generals at sunset."  
  
* * *  
  
The setting sun cast long shadows over the valley. Beneath the cliff I stood on, just beyond my range of vision, I knew the army was preparing for the attack. They had employed the use of another wizard to send forth an attacking force of undead to begin the initial assault. He worked under a concealing spell, I could not see him but a small prickle along the back of my neck told me he had begun work.  
  
Turning the other way, my gaze swept over the dark forest, and behind it the distant mountains. Barovia. Castle Ravenloft was indeed somewhere in those mountains, nestled high on its rocky outcrop. I felt a twinge of sorrowful longing. How I wanted to be there, walking the battlements of that dark castle. The land itself seemed to be calling me, begging me to return. That part of my life was behind me, I reminded myself viciously.  
  
Steeling my heart to its gentle appeal, I bent my gaze to the forest floor. That it where they would be waiting. Strahd would likely be among them once the sun had set. Spying a small, treeless rise in the forest near the border, I surmised that would be where he directed the battle from. That would be the focus of my attention. Sitting down to wait, I watched the sun sink slowly below the horizon.  
  
I had given Erik a small amulet to wear that would allow me to talk to and monitor him throughout the battle. I did not want any harm to come to him. Reaching out for it now, I sensed his anxiety and fear. Soothingly I whispered into his mind, "Don't worry, I am here." I felt him relax at my reassurance. Smiling, I resumed my watch.  
  
Darkness cast its bleak shadow across the valley as the sun fled from view. As I watched, several score of undead shambled out of nowhere to step unhindered into the Barovian forest. Screams carried on the light breeze to where I stood. The clash of arms sharp in the otherwise silent night.  
  
A prickle of warning alerted me to the spell being cast. I quickly countered it, and for a moment felt the surprise of the caster as he sensed my familiar influence in the backlash. Without warning, the army broke into a run, attempting to cross the border. Before them, the fog sprung up, silent and deadly. They continued into it, the lead men stumbling and falling as poison shook their bodies.  
  
Suddenly I realised Erik was among them. "Stop! Don't enter the fog!" I cast my thought out to his mind, forgetting to use the amulet I'd given him. He stopped metres short of the border. Sighing my relief that he was safe, I watched in horror as a huge ball of fire sprung out of nowhere to engulf the spot where Erik stood. My previous call to him had been heard and, sensing a weakness, had been exploited. The gamble had paid off, for I was unable to think straight and ignored the sudden barrage of fireballs as they rained down upon the rest of the army.  
  
Crying out my pain, I leapt into the air, casting myself off the cliff. I fell rapidly to the valley floor, managing to catch myself with a half shouted spell. I sank harmlessly to the ground and began running almost as soon as my footing was solid. Rushing quickly to the spot where Erik was, I searched among the charred bodies, calling upon his amulet guide me to him.  
  
I found him, lying broken and torn on the smoking earth. Cradling his head in my arms I almost wept to him, "Hold on Erik, I am here, I will make you well again. Please don't die." His eyes flickered open to stare blankly at me.  
  
"Zhaya? Don't cry. I will be well now that you are here. See? I am better already..." his voice broke off into weak coughing, blood spilling over his chin. And then he was gone. Hugging his head close to me, I wailed my grief, blind to the battle that still raged around me.  
  
Another fireball struck the ground behind me, an eruption of dirt flinging me helplessly into the air, towards the fog. I landed hard, just short of the grey wall and everything went black for a few moments.  
  
When I opened my eyes again the fog wall had hold of my hand. Or rather, something in it did. Following my fall, my arm had landed on the Barovian border. Looking up weakly I saw what was holding my hand, an arm clothed in black. Following the arm with my eyes, back to its source I saw Strahd's pale face partially obscured by the fog. Holding my hand gently in his, he looked down at me, a mixture of emotions fighting for control of his features. "Zhaya," he whispered.  
  
Struggling to my feet, I wrenched my hand from his grasp. "You killed him!" I shrieked at him. "What did he do to you? He was so innocent and helpless, you had no right to kill him. Kill me instead." He shook his head at me and it only fuelled my rage. I stepped backwards, casting a spell which I flung over him with vicious fury. He countered it swiftly. I cast another. And another. Knowing it was pointless, but unable to take the pain of Erik's death, of Strahd's betrayal. I recalled every tortured moment of my exile and blamed him for it. He struggled under my onslaught and in desperation returned my attack with his own.  
  
I was flung backwards as a wall of pure force stuck me solidly. Landing awkwardly, I fought to reclaim air for my lungs, gasping. Lying, broken on the ground I saw a figure loom over me. The dark twisted creature I'd encountered the night before, I realised. He looked down at me, grinning. "You are her," he rasped. "We have hunted you long. You must be destroyed." Still choking for breath I rolled away from him. And into Erik.  
  
It was not Erik however, not anymore. His dead eyes did not look at me as he raised his sword above his head. Crying weakly, I felt the spasm of pain arc through my body as the sword came down through my chest. Tortured beyond belief, I wrenched the wretched thing free of my chest, blood spilling over me. Erik's body slumped uselessly to the ground again. The figure was nowhere to be seen.  
  
I rolled onto my belly and used my arms and legs to drag myself along the ground, towards the border. If I were to die I would die in Barovia and nowhere else. The sweetness of its longing call dulled my pain somewhat, I felt my legs becoming numb and bent all my effort to the final effort of dragging myself into Barovia.  
  
The intensity of the joy that flooded me was beyond anything I'd before experienced. Join me, it whispered. Let me take away your pain. Sobbing with the intensity of my pain, I didn't dare to not accept its offer. Digging my fingers deep into Barovian soil, even as my life blood spilled into its hungry embrace, I pressed my lips to the ground and with the last of my breath whispered, "I, Zhaya, am the land..."  
  
* * *  
  
Strahd speaks.  
  
Suddenly I felt more complete than I'd ever felt in my life. The void of loneliness that had been my companion for so many centuries was gone. My heart swooped with a joy I had never before experienced. Yet even as I rejoiced in the feeling of contentment that suffused me, I felt it rapidly slipping away from me.  
  
She was here. And she was dying.  
  
I found her lying face down on the ground, hands gripping the soil as though her life depended on it. I rolled her over onto her back, the ground had soaked most of her blood, yet still she lived. If barely. I did not know what I could do. I had her at last and soon she'd be gone. I could not let her go. I would die myself before I lost her again.  
  
Slicing the veins in my wrist open with my own fingernail, I pressed my arm to her lips, letting my blood fall into her open mouth. Her tongue flicked out gently to catch the drops, slowly at first and then with growing hunger. Her arm came up to grab mine and she drank from me with intensity, her eyes locked on mine. I let her drink, filled with an ecstasy so completely fulfilling it brought tears to my eyes. Finally, as my own weakness intruded on my awareness, I tore my arm from her iron grip. Gasping she fell back onto the ground.  
  
Getting to my feet, I lifted her gently in my arms and carried her home.  
  
End excerpt.  
  
* * *  
  
The cold night wind flowed past me as I stood high on the tower of Castle Ravenloft. It was dark, but I could see clearly. My senses heightened, I let my awareness soar through the land at my feet. I knew every stone, every tree. This was my land. My Barovia. I sensed a movement at my side, arms enfolding me gently. I leaned back into Strahd's embrace and together we gazed out into the night.  
  
Two dark souls, joined as one.  
  
Forever. 


End file.
